


Daisies and Paw-Prints

by SmallTownBard



Series: Of startling joys and kind misfortunes [1]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Fluff, God save the queen but most importantly God help the boi, Guess what is not angsty for once, M/M, Moomin is a charmed mess, Pining, Snufkin is an introverted mess, Snusmumriken | Snufkin Has Paws and a Tail, Springdove, Therefore he is only mentioned here in Moomintroll's musings, cuteness, so much pine, this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-04-24 02:17:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19163776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmallTownBard/pseuds/SmallTownBard
Summary: Moomin muses over a note from a certain adventurous Mumrik.





	Daisies and Paw-Prints

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something short and sweet before I dive headfirst into something longer and more serious. And thus, have some fluff.

Moomintroll wasn't really one for loud dramatics and plot-stirring public stances. Sure, he had his fair share of mischief and adventure under his soft white coat, but unless the occasion turned especially in favour of some good old moomin heroism, he mostly avoided being _as loud_ , chaotic and boisterous as, say, Little My. It would be false to say he preferred silence or that he himself had trouble with noisy company. However, be it Moominmamma's gentle influence or the years and years of friendship with a certain quiet mumrik, he simply didn't cause nearly as much ruckus as he probably could — and _would_ — without the two calm presences in his life.

All of that, plus the fact that he desperately wanted to avoid any later questions, was the reason for why he was currently screaming into his pillow as opposed to from the rooftop for the whole Moominvalley to hear like his heart was advising him to. 

You see, that certain quiet mumrik left him a letter on the window today. And there wasn't really anything special about the letter (except that it was from Snufkin, and any letter from Snufkin was its own kind of special if Moomin was being completely honest with himself). It was just a simple note informing him that Snufkin left for a hike in the mountains that morning and wouldn't be back for a few days, with a daisy doodled at the foot of the letter in lieu of a signature. That was a fairly common thing to occur, and not at all the reason for Moomintroll to scream his face off. 

No. The reason for all the fuss was a single, innocent paw-print on the back of the letter. 

It was oh-so inconspicuous. Snufkin must have taken his gloves off to write the note, and accidentally dip his paw in ink before folding the paper. There were even other smudges around it, as if he tried to hastily wipe it off in a split-second panic, further proving his theory that the print was purely incidental. 

That, however, changed nothing about the fact that the unfortunate paw-print was just so darn _small_.

Upon recalling the black outlining of little paw-pads, lithe fingers and a few hair-thin smudges that indicated fur, he took refuge under his pillow once more, hoping his muffled whine would somehow scare away the thoughts of holding said paw in his two own, and squishing those paw-pads gently to see the claws extend, and do snufkins even have claws like moomins do? He wouldn't know as Snufkin never used them in front of him. Would the fur be soft or would it be scratchy? Snufkin's tail looked _very_ soft that last time he's seen it, so surely his paws would be undoubtedly- 

Moomin lifted his red face up for air, and flopped onto his back, exhausted. It was barely ten o'clock in the morning and he already felt like he swam two miles up-stream in the thawing river, except warmer. Much, much warmer. 

With a sigh, he carefully brought up the letter once more to gaze at his friend's unintentional mark. Only imagining the offended face Snufkin surely made at his own clumsiness was enough to make Moomintroll grin. Snufkin. His dear, wise, silly, rebellious Snufkin. A mumrik whose independence was thrice as tall as he himself, yet who could easily fit under Moomin's chin when Moomintroll stopped slouching. And he knew, because he tried it. If he focused hard enough, he could still feel the lithe body in his arms, shaking with muffled giggles that got oh-so wonderfully lost in his white fur. After all these years, Moomin's whole pelt was beautifully embroidered with invisible threads of his best friend's laughter. 

He liked to think that Snufkin's skin was decorated with his, too. 

He pressed his now larger and wider paw against the small print, feeling something incredibly warm and yearning settle around his stomach.

Oh, he got it bad, didn't he?

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼


End file.
